How I Love, Jyuushirou
by TysonGranger
Summary: She didn't know what she wanted...ok, that was a lie. She knew exactly what she wanted, but denying it was so much easier. Right? Rukia POV, Rukitake.
1. How I Deny Him

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, its characters, etc. etc.

**How I Love, Jyuushirou**

**By: Tyson Granger**

**Part 1: How I Deny Him**

For the longest time I could not define the feeling that stirred within my gut every time I saw him. It would have been simple to call it adoration, affection, or even something as common as respect. Such emotions and thoughts were not uncommon for shinigami in my current position to hold for their superiors. After all, a captain was the noblest, most powerful, and most respected position in all Soul Society. From the moment one discovers their spiritual power there can be only one goal…captainship.

But that didn't explain why I found him beautiful.

Anybody would have been awed by the power he held, or the grace with which he wielded his zanpaktou. I heard once that he was somewhat of a prodigy, trained by the Commander-General himself in his days at the Shinigami Academy. Such skill was only natural for a person like that. Of course, Kyouraku-taichou had trained with him as well, but for some reason I never found his own release quite so appealing as my captain's. But it wasn't his zanpaktou that claimed my adoration.

It was his smile. Warm and comforting, ever present even in the face of a crippling disease that would shorten his life by millennia. One could scarcely tell if the knowledge of his own impending doom bothered him in the slightest, so rarely it was that he frowned. No matter the situation, in his presence I felt safe…comfortable. It was as if his aura engulfed me…held me within itself…whispering promises of stability and protection from the outside world. His smile could light the whole of Soul Society, I was certain. Instead, it was reserved for our division alone. I couldn't have imagined sharing, anyway.

His smile wasn't the only thing that caught my eye, however, and the more time I spent in his company I began to notice all the different things that drew me to him. White hair, its hue stolen by sickness, still held an appeal that I could neither place nor define. I would have loved to run my fingers through its length, over and over, and allow him to relax into my touch. I wished he could feel with me as I do with him…safe and comfortable…warm. I think it was the way that he carried himself that kept me near him.

Kyouraku-taichou often called him boring, and warned him that life was too short to be spent working. But my captain would always smile at him, wave a steady hand, and tell him that not everyone could hope to be so fantastically outgoing as him. He would tell his friend that he was content with his division, and that he should worry about his own problems, such as a certain bespectacled lieutenant he had been chasing for the better part of a century. That always ended the conversation, and when the two parted ways, they both seemed infinitely rejuvenated by the jovial discussion shared with a childhood friend. I never understood their relationship, but I admired them both for their strength and will.

Even when others questioned my captain's lifestyle his responses were always dignified, evasive…as if nothing in the world could bother him…or as if he were entirely comfortable and certain in his chosen path. I couldn't understand how a man like him could settle for such a simplistic existence. Working daily in his division and sharing in the company of good friends always seemed enough for him. I always thought that he could have so much more. I felt like he deserved more…a promotion, a family, a _wife_. I couldn't understand why he never sought such things when they were so obviously there for the taking.

He could have been with Unohana-taichou, I think. The two of them were close, at least, as close as two serious professional-minded people could be. Whenever discussing matters of importance, the two would meet and share tea, talking of the most important matters as if it were the most casual of conversation topics. There was a quiet ease about them, and I secretly envied their casualty. I supposed that because Unohana-taichou shared her rank with him that it was a bit easier to be at ease with the man, and that I did not was the ache in my chest began.

Nevertheless, the two seemed content to remain at least colleagues, friends at best…never more. I was unspeakably relieved the day Kyouraku-taichou questioned him about their relationship and my captain told him as much. It was only during a discussion between Unohana-taichou and Isane-fukutaichou…that I only vaguely overheard on a night I was recovering in the 4th from an overzealous training session…did I learn she might have wanted more. I pitied her then, and never again did I envy the kind healer. I could understand what it was like to want something you could never have…to desire a greater relationship with the gentle enigma that was my ailing captain.

It was probably in that time that I realized that I loved him. Somewhere between the casual dinners he shared with my brother and I, the affectionate patting of my head he often offered when I visited his office, and the awe I felt watching him in his rare moments of combat, I knew that he was more than my superior. Every time he touched me I felt my face burn, and I lost my will to look him in the eye. When he began to notice, he called me into his office and spoke with me at length in hopes to put my mind at ease. He thought I was afraid I had displeased him in some way. His warm, brown eyes looked deeply into my own while his beautiful, smiling lips promised me that he was just as proud now as he was the day I came to his division.

I blushed, and I knew I loved him. It was that simple…that easy.

Defining it was harder than it should have been. The man was old, millennia in fact, while my own life barely covered a fraction of that time. Problems like that were always present in Soul Society, because time moves differently when you are dead then when you are alive. I probably should have seen him as a father figure, or as a sage to which you are drawn when you need advice. Either relationship would have been more acceptable than what I wanted. But then, I wasn't sure what I wanted.

Ok, that was a lie, I admit. I knew exactly what I wanted…but it was much easier to avoid that reality than to accept it. Because accepting it meant I would have to deal with the social pressures of loving a man over a thousand years my senior, and that he would have to deal with my immature feelings. Admitting it would be to bring my foolish desires before the ever-scrutinizing gaze of my brother, who would almost certainly reject any feelings I held towards his sempai as "improper" or "embarrassing". I didn't want to make things complicated between us…or them...and I didn't want to ruin the amazing friendship he had offered as a captain to his subordinate. I was not so selfish as to want to bring such hardships upon a man who had offered me nothing but kindness, and the first place I could call my own since I had lived in Rukongai. I was being selfless, really, by not telling him.

That was how I denied him. Much easier than admitting it, right?


	2. How I Deceive Myself

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, its characters, etc. etc.

**How I Love, Jyuushirou**

**By: Tyson Granger**

**Part 2: How I Deceive Myself**

Denial can only satisfy a heart for so long, I discovered. The more time I spent in his company, the harder it became to seal away what I wanted more than anything to let out. Yet, denial isn't the only trick useful in the avoidance of one's feelings. Relief has many faces, as I found a more reasonable person on which to fixate my admiration. To this day I swear it felt real at the time, and it was only after the fact I understood it hadn't been real. Things might have been different had I known sooner…no…I would still mourn him just the same.

Kaien Shiba was among the first people I met when I joined the thirteenth division. Actually, I met him long before I met my captain…his illness kept him incapacitated for long periods of time, I would learn quickly. Kaien's friendly way of speaking, his familiar mannerisms, and his infectious energy were enough to make me immediately more comfortable in my new station. And though he didn't make me feel quite like our captain, being near him was undeniably pleasant, and if not for the knowledge that he was married and his wife was somewhere within the walls of our division I might have taken a more romantic interest in him.

As it was, I simply allowed myself to become enamored with him. More and more, little by little, and when I realized slowly what I felt for our captain was more than loyalty, I found myself gravitating more towards our lieutenant's company than any other person. In retrospect, it might have just been easier to be with Kaien. He was closer to my age, and our familiarity would draw a lot less stares than with my bed-ridden superior. I never minded being with him at all. And yet, whether it was the obstacle of Miyako or the lure of my captain I never quite felt the same for Kaien as I did for him.

But I told myself I did, and foolish me, I believed it.

Then again, the deception of an aching heart is all-too-easy. The desperate longing you cannot ease is pushed aside because you tell yourself that you've found what you wanted. It sounds easy, and it is, really. By fixating on Kaien I was certain I could forget about my love for _him_. Because Kaien was unavailable and somehow more appropriate, I could feel for him as I did for my captain, but _not_ telling him made much more sense. I loved Miyako, I really did, and I could never do anything to hurt that wonderful woman to whom Kaien was married.

That was how it worked, and for the longest time my days passed by happily. Kaien made for wonderful company, and Miyako was the older sister I never had. And every now and then, I would see our captain leave his bedside and in those times my heart was full. I could have spent the rest of my life in the comfortable atmosphere created by the woman I admired more than any other, the man who made it his duty to make me feel at home, and the captain I adored. Only at night, when Kaien and Miyako were at home and our captain was resting his weary lungs for the days to come, would I ever feel alone. It was nothing, really. Morning would dawn and I would be with them again.

Until one morning they were gone. Miyako fell to the jaws of a deadly hollow…Kaien, to the tip of my sword. And our captain had been there with me to witness the gruesome display. My mentor…the son he never had…locked in mortal combat with the monster that stole his love and with it his pride. I had never seen such a disgusting, brutal battle, but no matter how hard I tried his arm blocked me from joining Kaien in the fray. Then, when Kaien was defeated, it was he who engaged it first, and I think I realized then that he loved him more than I. Not in a romantic sense, of course, but in the paternal sense that a man who had never seen fatherhood (and by all accounts, may _never_ see fatherhood) might love his closest student.

I realized as I watched them fight that I never loved my lieutenant like I loved him, but that I loved Kaien Shiba all the same. He was a kind superior, a fair leader, and most importantly, a friend when I had none left. That was why I went back to the battle site long after my captain had ordered me to leave him. No, it wasn't to pay off a debt for pretending to love him…I was never so noble…and I guess even I was surprised that I hadn't gone back for my captain. Maybe it was because I had faith in him, or because I was so blindly afraid for my friend and lieutenant. Either way, I think it ended up being the only thing that saved him.

But it killed him, and it took me far longer to forgive myself than I care to admit. Even though our captain was crippled by his disease, and even though Kaien thanked me afterwards for allowing him to keep his honor, the loss of such a man was a bitter pill to swallow. Not even my captain could console me properly afterwards, and it would be almost half a century before I began to understand that maybe…no, definitely…I wasn't the only one whose scars from that night never healed. And in that time, I came to a new understanding with my captain that made my love for him grow stronger.

If only by that night, through the man we both loved, we were connected forever. We shared the same grief, and through it our bond grew. Perhaps it was the gift of a man who always seemed to know just what I needed to see or hear…I'll never know for sure…but whenever his name was mentioned or the lieutenant's seat was discussed, we would share a look of understanding and pain. On rare nights when it was raining, he would call me into his study to talk about the past. I always hated talking about the past, but listening to him was soothing in a way. I think, perhaps, it exorcised the pain for both of us when he would recount the ways that Kaien used to make him proud, how he would have been the next captain of the Protection Squads without a doubt, and of course, how much he missed his company.

I never talked, only listened. And on rare occasions, we would sit together on his small mat and he would hold me closely, probably more for his benefit than my own. Sometimes I would cry on his shoulder, the glimmering droplets staining his pristine robes with their saline residue, and others I managed to contain my tears. He _never_ cried, though, and how he managed that feat I will never know. Yet, on one particularly stormy evening, I remember the feel of him…as he held me tightly to a chest that was much more defined than a man so unhealthy should be…as his body shook to control his pain. I would have kissed him then, if only to ease his pain, but I was weaker than I should have been. I told myself it wouldn't have been appropriate, and that was enough to stay my lips. In the time that passed from that moment on, I had never been…nor felt…so close to him as I did that night, and it remained as such until I left for my first assignment in the real world.

The story of my meeting with Ichigo Kurosaki…well, is honestly a matter of history now…but I remember upon my first meeting him thinking that he bore a striking resemblance to Kaien. Now that thought was banished almost as soon as it came to me, deeming it improper to compare a living boy to such a fine man long past his death, but the more time we spent together the more I came to realize the two were very similar. In fact, it was almost frightening how much the two shared in common…from their shocking spiritual power and growth curve, to their brash attitudes, and even down to the way he seemed to understand me better than anyone ever could.

To say he replaced Kaien in my life would be to dishonor the memory of my beloved lieutenant, but I wouldn't be exaggerating to say his role soon became something similar to that which I had shared with the dark-haired prodigy. It was only natural, then, that as we spent more time together I began to feel much the same way about Ichigo as I had towards Kaien when we were together. Feelings for my captain, pushed back and out of the spotlight because of the dangerous ramifications of their discovery, were once again displaced…this time on the gifted young boy from Karakura Town. I say displaced, because I was foolish enough to believe my interest in him was romantic. After all, what a wonderful tale that would be! A man from the real world saves the damsel in distress and sweeps her off her feet…not that our tale resembled that little scenario (with the notable exception of saving my life on several occasions) too closely, but the pieces definitely fit.

And it's not to say that I never loved him. Ichigo was the perfect confidant. With him, my thoughts and my feelings would always be safe, and not simply because he was a world away from my home and captain. Ichigo was loyal, and caring, and_ innocent_. Moreover, there was an air about him that anything he did or said you could take to the bank, not dissimilar to the attitude held by my deceased lieutenant. Yet as innocent and immature as he could be in some areas (romance and fighting, for example) he could also be incredibly wise and mature in others. Ichigo had lost something precious to him as well…his mother, at a young age…and he understood the pain I felt when Kaien was gone. His determination in the face of danger was so fierce that I had never seen the likes before…not since Kaien's fateful battle with the wretched hollow that killed him.

So it was easy to love Ichigo for all that he was, even as a friend…possibly a lover. Yet, as I sat in the Shrine of Penitence waiting to be executed, I came to understand that once again I had displaced my romantic interest from its rightful target to someone else. As the minutes ticked down, and the days passed before my date with destiny, I worried over Ichigo's safety and I waited for him to save me. No, I never held any false hopes that my captain would rescue me from my prison. To him, nothing was more valuable than the duties of an honor-bound man. And by saving me, both of our lives would be forfeit by the laws of our home. I couldn't believe he would do something so reckless, and I dared not imagine that he would risk his own life to save mine.

As I waited for Ichigo to save me and began to accept my fate, however, it was with some shock…or perhaps I wasn't shocked at all…that I knew that what I expected and what I wished for were entirely separate things. Ichigo was here, and he was coming for me…from what Renji had told me and from what little spiritual pressure I could sense outside, I knew that much. This whispers in my heart, however, carried a different name into my ears and my dreams alike. I knew somehow that I had been wishing for him all along, but such a pipe dream could never come true…not for me.

So Ichigo saved my life and though I expected him to try I had never expected him to succeed. Thus, my life was spared, and I decided that I cared for the orange-haired substitute shinigami a bit more than I actually did. Not that I minded the deception, though, because it was much easier to remember that he _had_ saved me than to think that my captain had also come…albeit a little later than Ichigo…to destroy the instrument of my demise.

And for some time that became a pattern for us…Ichigo or I would get into danger, and the other would bail them out. The set up really couldn't have been any more perfect for the two of us to fall in love. There was an unsettling realization on the horizon that neither of us cared to think about at the time, however. One that made any attempts at a relationship between us…unlikely, at best. Someday the war would end…and with it, our dreams of togetherness. But that was fine with me, really, because I never loved him in that way. I only told myself I did, and it was oh-so-easy to accept it.

That is how I deceived myself, though in retrospect, I think I might have been the only one who was _really_ fooled.


	3. How I Accept the Inevitable

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, its characters, etc. etc.

**How I Love, Jyuushirou**

**By: Tyson Granger**

**Part 3: How I Accept the Inevitable**

**"**War is Hell."

It is a quote that I heard quite often with regards to battles that took place in the real world during my time with Ichigo and his friends, and as I remembered the nights I had done battle with hollows and especially Kaien's fateful night, I couldn't help but agree. War meant blood and pain, destruction and loss. Nothing good ever came about as a result of a war, or at least, the losses were always guaranteed to outnumber the gains. However I never quite understood the breadth of that statement until I invaded Hueco Mundo alongside Ichigo and did battle with the Arrancar that possessed the soul Kaien Shiba.

To fight head-to-head with that wretched being that wore his face, wielded his zanpaktou, and spoke as if I had failed him on the night of his death was perhaps the most difficult thing I would ever experience in my entire life. Harder than concealing the love I held for my captain by far…even harder than watching my former lieutenant die…being forced to drive my blade into the hollow shell that had owned his soul was enough to shatter my iron determination. When I left to follow the orange-haired substitute shinigami, there were no words or actions that could have shaken my resolve to see both he and Orihime back to their world alive. I would fight to my last breath to save them, and to finish the war with Aizen…I never questioned that until I stared down the Ninth Espada.

Then I truly understood that war was Hell. And throughout the war with Aizen there would be several more incidents that would test my will and the will of those who fought against him. In the history of Soul Society there had never been such a desperate battle, but with the combined might of Soul Society, Ichigo Kurosaki, and those who followed him, victory came at long last. And the end that both he and I had been both longing for and desperately wanting to avoid came and went. Of course we had both been aware that the end for the two of us would come eventually, but that didn't make our parting any easier.

It would be several decades before we met again, and on that day we parted we said our farewells with tears in our eyes. Well, perhaps I had been the only one crying, but that's just how Ichigo was. Nevertheless, we went our separate ways with our heads held high, knowing that what we had was something special and altogether different from the love many thought we shared. Ours was a bond of friendship and understanding, and the love shared between kindred spirits a world away. What it wasn't was a bond of lovers.

No matter how strong the deception, I couldn't hide from the truth my heart had hidden for the better part of a century. When I returned to Soul Society, it was all I could do to keep it hidden from him. The joy of seeing his face on a regular basis again…the pain we had shared upon his learning of my battle with the Ninth Espada…it felt as if they might burst out from my chest at any moment. That or I might lose my self-control and simply tackle him into the tightest embrace I could and never release him.

And for the life of me I couldn't understand why things changed so suddenly. Before it had been so easy to deny him (hadn't it?), or to deceive myself into believing my feelings for him weren't nearly as intense as I now knew them to be. But as I walked into his home in the 13th Division for the first time after the war had ended and our eyes met…I could see the joy written plainly on his pale face…as plainly as if they had been written in black ink on his forehead. And before I could say a word the sick man crushed me to his chest with more strength than a dying man should. We stood there for some time, he and I…and as the minutes passed while we stood entwined, I could feel for the first time the soft patter of his teardrops falling lightly on my covered shoulder.

He cried, and I knew he loved me. It was that simple…that easy. How then, could I continue to deny what I felt for my beloved captain? My mind was clear, the men I thought I loved were gone, and I knew he loved me. I smiled, I think, and then I did what I had waited my whole life to do. I drew back from his chest, twined my fingers around the back of his neck, and I kissed him. And when our lips met there was no awkward pause or acclimating ourselves to one another…no sense that what we were doing could be wrong on so many levels by the laws of our home. I kissed him as a lover would, strongly and deeply, as if we had been doing it for years.

And though we stumbled once as we made our way towards his futon with our lips sill pressed against together, it was a moment that was altogether perfect. It was a release decades in the making…brought about by an understanding that after all we had suffered through his illness, the death of our friend, and the war against Aizen, that there was not another moment to be wasted on hesitation and doubt. My lips belonged on his and this was right. That thought was the only one I needed to lie with him in this clandestine romance.

Time passed slowly as we kissed, close together on a mat made for one, and with each expansion and contraction of my wildly beating heart I could feel the burden that I carried leaving me through my every pore. Or maybe it was just the sweat, which glistened on my skin from our shared heat and the intense nature of our current engagement. I never asked him why he didn't stop me, and he never asked me why I kissed him. There were no reasonable answers to questions like those…only guesses, impossible to fathom, at what clouded thoughts drifted through my mind before I took a deep breath and plunged at last into the unknown.

In the morning there would be questions. Not because we slept together…because we did not…but because we knew that ours was a relationship that tested boundaries and transcended common law. I was young and he was dying. Our happy ending was still far off, no matter how far we had come since I first met my ailing "taichou". As the sun rose on the new day and we lay together on his small mat, talking…touching…kissing one another as I had always dreamed we would…I gripped his hand a little more tightly knowing that when my brother found out he would almost certainly tell me to let go.

Feeling my unease, my captain placed his arm lightly over my shoulder, muffling a cough into the light blue arm of his robe. Thankfully his spasms had waited until our passion had subsided before they kicked in, though I have little doubt it was our extensive "duel" that likely brought about this round of hacking. I felt instantly sorry, but he only smiled in me in that way only he could and assured me he had never felt better. If you didn't know him, you'd say he was crazy…he was pale, his eyes were surrounded by rings of black, and his coughs were getting disturbingly wet the more they came and went…but the glimmer in his dark brown eye was proof enough to support his wild claim. Seeing him like this made me feel silly for worrying about what the future might bring, and I laughed a little in spite of myself.

"Rukia, what's so funny?" the ill captain of the 13th asked, his pale lips quirking into a playful smile. His back was to the window and the golden glow of the rising sun framed his body in a way that made him shine. I never knew how beautiful a man could be until this moment. His smirk went a little crooked and his eyes danced with mirth. He really couldn't have been anymore ridiculous. "You were looking down all of a sudden, but then you perked up and had the most peculiar look on your face."

My cheeks lit up, a pink blush adding a hot tint to the skin on my face. However I wasn't the least bit uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. I opened my mouth and closed it quickly…okay, maybe a little. Nevertheless, I recovered valiantly, not about to let this man have the final laugh. Flashing him a brilliant smile, I touched his cheek tenderly and planted a small kiss on his soft lips.

"This is just how I love, Jyuushirou," I whispered, easing him back onto the mat beneath him. Our eyes locked as I held my lips inches above his face, resisting the urge to kiss him silly, and his eyelids drifted half-closed, giving him a dreamy, peaceful expression. And somehow, I knew we'd always be together. It was that easy…that simple. "Better get used to it."


End file.
